last night was a success...if success means i don't remember the guy's name and my panties are somewhere in the parking lot behind the bar
Update. It gets worse. A) he's done viagra and B) he wears socks at all times.
Too bad it's not "confirm, ignore or not unless I've had 20+ beers"
i cleaned the weed out of my bowl, pretended it was a spoon and ate oatmeal with it. my mom cried
his receeding hairline makes running into him so much less awkward. almost enjoyable actualy
I always have to poop after I paint my nails. It never fails.
A piece of cheeseburger just fell between my tits. Consider this a "wish you were here" postcard.
I know. They started calling me The Incident. The hotel maids, that is.
I decided that I do the same thing when i'm drunk with every guy who has a girlfriend...lecture them on how bad cheating is, then hook up with them. I'm like good cop, bad cop.
Am I really in your phone as Asshole Jesus??
Is it bad that I'm tindering right now? I'm naked on his couch while he's slaving over legal documents for work. And he doesn't have cable, so what else am I supposed to do?
Would it be weird to bake him a cake that says "sorry I peed on your bed"?
He came on my favorite pants. He is dead to me.
Because talking after sexting is equivalent to cuddling after sex
you came home and ate 12 bananas. you really didnt think mom would know you were high?
Randomize
